


Tightrope

by Sicomoro



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 19:45:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13325187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sicomoro/pseuds/Sicomoro
Summary: Otabek, a sleep-deprived waiter, knows very well how the suave cafe singer looks at him. What it means to fall for someone is something he’s not nearly as familiar with.





	Tightrope

“Come here often?” asks Jean-Jacques Leroy in that steady, silky voice of his, a voice that was just crooning into a microphone and washing over the dimly-lit club like a liquid gold wave. It's a voice that women have sighed and cried for, surely. A voice that asks cheeky questions like this without shame. His body is long and broad so it’s easy for him to swing his legs onto chairs and extend his arms like wings, radiating his presence outward, making himself an obstacle. In the past Otabek would wordlessly point to the name tag pinned to his apron.

Otabek has learned how to traverse over JJ’s many limbs without spilling any water from the bucket in his hand, and he does so now, because he has tables to wipe, because it’s nearly closing time. And because it’s nearly closing time, JJ starts helping him, and Otabek no longer feels the prickle of “You don’t have to,” on the tip of his tongue, since JJ is very bad at listening to anyone that isn’t himself. JJ grabs another rag and starts wiping the table beside his.

“I dunno if you heard, but there was like, a really big car crash down the street yesterday. You weren’t here so maybe you didn’t hear about it but I’m pretty sure it was on the news. I think someone died, which is really sad. It’s like, your life can really just end in a flash, you know. Like maybe one minute you’re in a long ass line at Loblaws holding a bunch of bags of fruit— ’cause I’m gonna start juicing— and then half an hour later your brain matter is spilled all over your dashboard and you’re dead and your parents are crying and also your sister never paid you back that $50 she borrowed. Just kidding, I don’t actually care about that $50.”

When he talks like this, it’s actually not that bad. Because Otabek doesn’t hear his voice, he listens to it. The sound of it. How it mixes in with the tired shuffling of his coworkers’ feet and with the soft clinking of glasses being put away. And with the swish of his own wet rag on the table in front of him. And with the passing of cars outside. And the darkness of the cool night. And once he opens the door, the potentialities of the sky. It belongs. Here, in this space in time.And it’s cozy somehow, even if the man who owns it could never be described as such.

Otabek loves the night. When he goes out and feels himself swallowed by it he feels like he can do anything. Like he could run to the top of something and look down and see an answer. And if he reached out hard enough he could touch something more than himself. And feel the wind blow around the loose wisps of his soul. He lives for that feeling. It’s why he doesn’t mind that this job keeps him this late.

“You look pretty lost in thought there,” says JJ, and Otabek zeroes back and finds that he’s been aimlessly wiping the same spot for the last twenty seconds.

“Yeah,” he answers, except it isn’t much of an answer at all. Still, JJ perks up, because usually Otabek doesn’t even give him that.

“What’s on your mind, then? You can tell me. I’m here to listen. You can count on JJ,” he prattles, when really all of that is just a long way of saying  _Please tell me_. Otabek knows JJ is always desperate for things like this. For little pieces of him. Otabek doesn’t really play into it one way or the other. JJ is JJ, and Otabek is a man lacking the mental energy to entertain it either negatively or positively. It just is what it is. An existence reaching towards his own.

He doesn’t know words that will encapsulate this feeling. Sometimes he feels like his own body can’t contain it. This nameless, thrumming yearning. So he says, simply, “I want to do something,” and he knows what will come next, since JJ as a whole is easy to anticipate.

“Really? Like what? Like right now, you mean?" The rag in JJ's hand starts slowing down. "Or I guess you mean after work is done, huh. But it’s kinda late, you know?”

Otabek moves to another table and JJ follows, and he’s stopped wiping. He’s tossing the balled-up rag back and forth between his hands and getting water on the floor. 

“Stop throwing that around,” Otabek says, not because he’s actually bothered, but because he doesn’t really know what else to say. Even though he's well aware JJ doesn’t care if he ever answers him or not.

JJ obeys, actually. And then places himself right in front of Otabek and begins wiping the same table. Otabek stops when their hands knock against each other’s.

“Hey.” JJ is quiet when he says it. Otabek watches JJ’s fingers walk close to his own and climb on top of his hand, wrap feather light around his wrist. Pull slightly. He's saying, Otabek knows,  _Look at me_.

Well, there’s things like this too. Otabek doesn’t reject it, even though he could, even though JJ has asked him if he wanted to. He doesn’t dislike it, in truth. So this is, what, limbo? Something will tip him over an edge eventually, he figures. It’s like a tightrope. You can’t stay on it forever. Gravity will yank you left or right. He’s been walking the tightrope that JJ put up for him for months now. He sometimes feels like the fact that it’s been so long means something, and he knows what that something could very possibly be, but he doesn’t focus too much on it in case he gives himself a false positive. Whatever happens, he wants to know definitively, right in that moment, bam,  _this_. Whether it’ll actually happen like that is… well.

“Hey,” again, so Otabek looks up this time. JJ has leaned in close, predictably. “Hey, wanna do something then? After this. Let’s do something.” An easy smile. “It’ll be fun.”

From the other end of the room, Otabek’s thoughts are interrupted before they can even begin forming. “JJ, stop flirting with the staff,” shouts the manager. “If you aren’t gonna help, leave.”

“I was helping! I was helping, see?” Droplets go flying when he waves his rag around. Otabek takes the cue to move to the next table. “And why do you say staff like I’m trying to seduce everyone here? I have a very one-track mind, you know.”

“Anyone could see that,” she answers exasperatedly. “Just focus on wiping that shit instead of annoying Otabek.”

But when she walks away JJ sidles right up next to Otabek, nudging against him with his shoulder. "You know I only flirt you with, right?”

“It doesn’t matter to me if I’m the only one you flirt with or not.” It’s true, it makes no difference to him, and it's not something he's ever put much thought towards. But it makes JJ laugh, a rich sound.

“I really like you."

Otabek has contemplated why that is. Before. But he found no answer. He wonders if JJ would give him one if he asked. Maybe JJ doesn't even know why.

"Okay," is all he says, and continues in silence. JJ watches him finish a table, then the next, then the next. It bothers Otabek, being stared at, so when he's done with that table he stares back. JJ quickly crumbles.

"Wah, I'm  _sorry_ ," he whines in between laughs. "I'll finish the rest of the tables, okay? You're just really diligent-looking, it's like, so cute. Lemme finish the rest, okay."

He pulls Otabek gently down into a chair and Otabek considers protesting and never gets further than that.  _It's nice, isn't it_ , a voice in his head says.  _That he acts like this_. Yeah it is, so? Anyone would be happy to get out of doing their work. Otabek is tired after standing all day, anyway.

There it is, it's that. That sort of annoying thing, the wind brushing him off the tightrope. The false positive. The thing Otabek doesn't want because what he wants is to be ripped off. The balancing act is so tedious, and he feels like it's not supposed to be.

JJ gets through the rest of the tables probably quicker than he should. He pulls Otabek off the chair and undoes his apron. “Are you hungry?” he asks, removing the apron from around Otabek’s neck. “Wanna go eat something?”

Otabek looks at him. “I have to take the bus soon.”

“I’ll drive you home.”

Otabek has to admit that sounds infinitely better than taking the bus. He doesn’t hesitate. “Okay.”

“Okay, great! That’s great. Uh okay, wait here, I’m gonna go back and say we’re done. I’ll get your jacket too, okay? Wait here.”

Otabek doesn't wait. Well, he does, but outside, because he’s had enough of waiting to leave the cafe. He exists and leans against the brick wall, eyes on the sky. And it's not chilly enough for him to start shivering, but the wind forces his hands into the pockets of his jeans. JJ bursts out seconds later.

“What, I— I thought you left!” he cries.

“No,” answers Otabek simply, and reaches for the jacket in JJ’s hands.

“I totally thought you bailed on me just now, I was gonna start crying.”

“That’s doubtable.”

“No, really.”

“Where’s your car?”

“In a hurry, I see. You’re hungry, right? Wanna go to McDonald’s?” JJ asks while leading Otabek down the sidewalk. “I’ll pay.”

“I can pay for myself.”

“I insist. You know I’m really good at insisting.” The smile JJ flashes at him tells him it’d would be a waste to argue about this. So Otabek doesn’t.

JJ’s car is… as expected. There’s an air freshener in the shape of a maple leaf hanging from the rearview mirror, along with rosary beads and two different letter J keychains. His steering wheel has a red leather cover on it. On his dashboard is a small moose figure and a snow globe which Otabek presumes is glued down. Otabek doesn’t comment on these things, but something in his aura must have given away his feelings because JJ says, “You think my car is gaudy, right?”

"...Uh...”

"No, it's fine. You can say it. Just say, 'JJ, your car is gaudy.' I take pride in the gaudiness, actually."

“If you already know it’s gaudy then there’s no reason for me to say it.”

“No, please do. I like hearing your voice.”

At that, all Otabek says is “Oh.” Ten minutes later, they’re in a McDonald’s parking lot, food in hand because Otabek didn’t really want to eat inside the restaurant. He eats and looks through the sunroof at the starless panel of darkness above him and feels JJ watching him, and when he’s done eating he presses his fingers against the glass and lets the cold seep slowly into his fingertips. JJ says, “Hey,” twice before Otabek hears it.

“If I asked you to tell me about yourself, would you?”

Otabek turns to look at him, cheek smushed against the car seat. “Sure.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

So JJ starts by asking,  _Do you have any pets?_ , something innocuous, and then progresses to  _What do you like to do?_  and  _Tell me about Almaty_. So Otabek says no and mixing music and Almaty is beautiful. And every time he looks at the hour displayed in blue on the console another fifteen minutes has fallen away from him. The cars that pass by illuminate them in a headlight flash and the shadows are sharp and intense on JJ’s skin, little triangle cuts of gray and black on his neck and brow and cheekbones, like he was born from a collection of angry polygons. That’s the thought Otabek has, looking at him and the way he moves, so stark and abrupt all the time. But Otabek knows, probably better than anyone, that he is soft too, and that when he tells him what his parents’ faces looked like at the airport before he left for Canada that he will say he’s sorry when it isn’t his fault. And that when he jokes about Otabek's haircut being a copy of his, he’ll want to reach over and touch it, but he’ll ask first. And he’ll go for the back and run his fingers down to the nape and let them rest there until he can’t hold eye contact anymore. Otabek knows all these things, and it’s the first time he’s realizing it, here in this parking lot after midnight when there is only the night above him and the faint sound of wind against the window and an 80s song on the radio. In JJ’s car where a little moose stares at him from the dashboard.

It’s so comfortable it makes Otabek uncomfortable.

“Can we go outside?” he says suddenly, without meaning to.

"Uh, sure. Where do—"

"Anywhere is fine."

Anywhere turns out to be the nearest park, and a spot on the grass there. On their backs, staring upwards at a cloudless night. Otabek figures this isn’t really JJ’s thing, so he expects it when he asks, “So are we looking for constellations or something?”

“No,” Otabek says, and quickly realizes he probably should have lied. He’s being bothersome, isn’t he? Making JJ drive him out here for pretty much no reason aside from his own anxieties getting the best of him. But this isn’t going to help either, because it’s comfortable here too, beside this too-tall body that inches ever closer to him.

Why? Why today, of all days, does he feel like this? Today is Saturday. There's nothing remarkable about that. When he woke up in the morning he made himself breakfast and did some laundry before heading to work. He's done everything normally except for this, right now. Except for lay out here and feel the comfort. And let it weigh down on him. If he breathed in, would the feeling choke him?

“Oh, well, okay then.” JJ sounds too happy about everything right now. “Just laying down is pretty good too.”

“Just ‘pretty good’, huh.” Otabek says it without thinking. Something feels like it’s rising in his chest, a lightness.

JJ turns eagerly toward him, both hands tucked under his cheek, grinning. “No, it’s great, actually. I’m really happy, you know. That I’m spending time with you.”

Somehow, it’s too hard for Otabek to look at his face. He turns his eyes back upward. “I just felt like coming here. That’s all.”

“You don’t mind that I’m here?”

“I don’t.”

“Don’t you?”

“No, I don’t.”

JJ’s knee bumps against his leg. For the first time, Otabek realizes this has all been building towards something. And that’s he’s let it happen. Without even noticing. It didn’t seem strange to say yes to JJ. It didn’t seem strange to get into JJ’s gaudy car and eat with him. It didn’t seem strange to tell JJ about his childhood and his parents and his hobbies. And it isn’t strange now, even with JJ touching his face and turning it towards his own and saying his name. Has it always been like this, even from the start? Have these feelings always been waiting, somewhere?

“You know what I’m going to ask, don’t you?” JJ asks softly.

“Yes.” Because he does, because it’s obvious.

“What am I going to ask, Otabek?”

“If you can kiss me.”

“Can I?

The lightness in Otabek’s chest has grown until it feels like it’ll burst. He doesn’t want to think twice. He doesn’t want to deny himself. “Yes,” he says, because he’s okay plunging into a place he doesn’t know.

JJ has scooted close enough that he only has to push forward a few inches to kiss him. It’s new, all of this. The way Otabek’s lips feel touching someone else’s like this. How his body shakes involuntarily, so he has to dig his fingers into the ground. How he doesn’t know what to do, but JJ does, and he takes it slow with him until Otabek starts to press back on his own. It’s nice, everything about it. It’s nice and it’s good and Otabek likes it.

Their position is awkward, so JJ moves on top of him. Otabek is so jittery he’s worried about accidentally hitting him. But JJ is not a fragile man, he knows, so he places a cold, shaky hand on the back of JJ’s neck and pulls him down, because he really, really does like this. And he'll let himself like it all he wants.

JJ's hands touch his face. He breathes small, hot words into Otabek's mouth. Words that he likes the sounds of. He tastes those words on his tongue and swallows their warmth and JJ chases after them like a starved man. Otabek supposes he is. Because they've known each other, worked next to each other for close to a year. And they met on an autumn day just like this— Otabek is pretty sure he was wearing this exact jacket when JJ extended a hand to him, introduced himself, and immediately asked for his number. He had gotten scolded by the manager back then too. She had said,  _Hey, Otabek, want me to fire him?_  so nonchalantly that Otabek had almost laughed. But he'd said no, because it was something new and interesting and in spite of everything he wanted to experience it. Just like this, right now. He wonders, even as he runs his hands through JJ's short hair, if it's bad to be so impulsive.

JJ, somehow, pushes his hand beneath Otabek's various layers and presses cold fingers into the skin of his side. Otabek punches out a shaky sigh at the unfamiliar feeling, a feeling that makes him arch upwards and grip tight to JJ's neck, and he can feel his legs jerk at every movement of JJ's fingers. It's overwhelming. He feels the mediocrity of his inexperience pressing down on him. It's only made worse when JJ says, "You're real sensitive, aren't you?"

"Shut up," he snaps, embarrassed. He shoves his face into JJ's shoulder. "Just don't say anything."

"Why are you embarrassed? It's okay, it's cute."

"Shut up  _please_ ," Otabek grinds out.

"Okay, okay, sorry." JJ laughs, slips his hand further up Otabek's side. Otabek wants to hit himself at the way his breath catches. "Will you show me your face again?"

"No."

"Ah, you. So stubborn."

Just as he's about to retort, JJ distracts him by shoving his other hand under Otabek's shirt and pulling them both up so Otabek is settled in JJ's lap. JJ's hands find the small of his back and draw circles there, and Otabek can't help the way his body squirms, arching both into and away from the soft contact, and it frustrates him that it can't decide on one damn thing. He clutches at JJ's shoulders and breathes into the fabric of his jacket. JJ abruptly stops.

"You okay?" he asks tentatively, petting the back of Otabek's head.

"Yeah," Otabek blurts. Because he is okay. He's very, very okay. The only thing is that his body can't keep up with all these new sensations. No one has ever, ever touched him like this. It's a lot to take in, somehow. The way his breathing picks up and how his skin feels like it's buzzing. How his throat clenches up and how his mind goes fuzzy and electric. It's really nice, it's just a lot.

"Can I see your face now?"

Otabek feels mortified just thinking about what his face must look like. "No."

"Why not?" JJ whines. "I really like your face. I wanna see it."

"Too bad. Stop asking."

"You know I'm really bad at that."

"So stop being bad at it."

JJ groans and rubs his cheek on the top of Otabek's head. "So cute but so stubborn, huh. But it's okay, I like you that way. I like you a lot."

"I know."

"I really like you, Otabek."

"I get it."

"A lot."

"Like I said—"

JJ's hands push upwards suddenly, traveling over the dips and curves of Otabek's spine and then back down again. Otabek shudders against him, eyes shut, teeth clenched. Because now JJ's lips are near his ear, tickling the skin there with his breath. "Otabek." His face heats up, he can feel it, so embarrassing. The way it burns is so awful. "Hey, if I asked you a question, would you answer it?"

_That depends_ , Otabek wants to say, and is too strung out to do so. JJ's hands paint smooth patterns on his skin that make it very hard to focus. "Sure."

"I won't mind no matter what your answer is, okay?"

"Just go ahead."

His hands move to grip Otabek's sides, draw him closer. In a rush of breath JJ says, "Otabek, do you like me?"

The question sounds somehow juvenile. Otabek furrows his eyebrows. Is it not enough that he's let JJ kiss him and touch him like this? It's almost comedic that he's asking for confirmation at this point.

"Why are you asking that now?"

"Huh?"

"Why would I kiss you if I don't like you?"

"For fun?"

Otabek, in spite of himself, yanks himself back and stares askance at JJ, who quickly wilts. "Okay, so you're not someone who does that. That's fair. Yeah. That's fine. Well that's perfect, really, because that means you actually do like me."

"I like you," Otabek says, because he might as well.

"Holy shit, you're so cute." JJ grabs his face right then and there and pulls him into a kiss so deep Otabek runs out of air. He pulls himself away and pushes JJ's face away with both hands.

"I almost suffocated. What's wrong with you."

JJ pulls Otabek's hands away and loops them around his own neck, laughing bashfully. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't know you couldn't breathe."

"Not everyone is as experienced as you are," Otabek snaps.

"Do I make it seem like I'm experienced?" JJ asks cheerfully.

"Don't act like you aren't."

"Probably not as much as you think." JJ grins and tightens his arms around Otabek's waist. His voice goes soft and low in a way Otabek has rarely heard it. "I've just thought a lot about how to touch you, you know? How to make it feel good for you."

Otabek lets out a pathetic sound, like he just choked. He looks away. He's really too much, this man. Absolutely too much. "Huh."

"You don't believe me?"

"I do believe you." Again, Otabek hides his face against JJ's shoulder.

"Hmm? Should I tell you what I thought about?" JJ whispers, entirely too cocky. Otabek shivers, feeling cold hands dip beneath his shirt and jacket yet again and stroke his waist. He moves his head slightly and his lips brush against JJ's neck. Which turns out to be quite fortuitous indeed. JJ laughs, but there's a thread of nervousness in his voice that Otabek picks up on— and latches onto.

"That tickles."

Otabek is skeptical. "Really?"

"Yes."

Otabek does it again, and now it's JJ's turn to squirm. "Otabek..."

Otabek doesn't know what he's doing, but he does know an opportunity when he sees one, so he takes a risk and bites down gently on the spot. JJ sucks in a breath and it's ridiculously satisfying to hear after having had JJ take the lead for the past fifteen minutes.

"Okay, okay, you found my weak spot, okay," JJ rushes out. "I admit it, okay, it's the neck."

Otabek pulls back to look at him. JJ stares back until he laughs.

"Ah, you're so dangerous. You're like, sexy without even trying. Which somehow makes you even hotter. Wild."

"Thanks."

JJ snorts and pulls Otabek into a too-tight hug, cradling his head into his chest. "You're too good."

"Thanks," Otabek repeats, even with his face squeezed the way it is.

"I think we've gotta end things here, though. Any more of that and it'll be way too hard to contain myself, you know." JJ pulls him back and ruffles his hair, eyes affectionate. Otabek looks away, face flushing. He's starting to feel lightheaded from it. "Let me drive you home."

Otabek bunches his hands fretfully in the front of JJ's jacket. He has to go home, he knows that. God only knows what time it is. The sickly sweet realization that he doesn't want to leave hits him hard in the bottom of his chest. He doesn't want to leave, he really doesn't. It feels too cruel to part now when he's just barely tasted this, something terrifying and foreign, something soft and heated. It makes him want to cry, and Otabek is absolutely, 100 percent not a crier. He can't even remember the last time he cried. It could have been years ago. But in spite of his delicately exhaled breaths, in spite of him biting down on his lip, tears prick at his eyes and he has to shove JJ away and turn around angrily to wipe at them. He has, quite honestly, never felt so pathetic in his entire life.

"God," he bites out, "Yeah, drive me home, please."

"Hang on, are you okay?" JJ comes around but Otabek turns pointedly away from him. Frankly he can't really explain why he's reacting like this. It seems too drastic and it leaves him looking like a fool. After having kept JJ on the fence for so long, after having balanced on his stupid mental tightrope, he's seriously crying? What is this, a symptom of sleep deprivation?

"Wait, why are you crying?" JJ's tone is panicked. "Do you not actually want me to drive you home? I'm just saying 'cause it's pretty late and I—"

"No, I do," Otabek says, struggling fiercely against the rise of more tears. "Just— I don't know." He digs the heels of his hands into his eyes and forces breaths into his body in an attempt to stabilize himself. "I want to go home," he lies.

“Okay, let’s go.”

Otabek doesn’t move. Neither does JJ.

Eventually Otabek catches his breath enough to turn around and admit, flatly, “I got overwhelmed.”

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault. I’m just, I guess, processing.”

“Oh. So you overloaded like a computer, huh.”

“I’d rather not be compared to a machine.”

“Sorry, ahh. I keep saying the wrong things.” JJ sidles up and takes Otabek’s shoulders in his hands, but keeps back enough so that his arms don't constrict him. It’s a nice gesture. “Tell me what to do to make you feel better.”

“Kiss me,” Otabek answers with no hesitation.

“Wouldn’t that overwhelm you again?”

“No.”

“Uh, I’m really,  _really_  happy you’re so enthusiastic, but it’s getting kinda late. Well, later than it already is.” He squishes Otabek’s face between his hands. “You have dark circles, by the way. And I’ve seriously seen you dozing off at the register when you think no one’s watching, like, more times than I can count. So I think it’s time for bed. You need it.”

Something warm creeps into the space in Otabek’s chest where agitation and distress sit. He reaches cautiously upward and places his fingers at JJ’s pulse, just to feel it. So fast. JJ places his hand on top of his, and Otabek feels it in his fingertips when he says, “I’ve been trying to act cool this whole time but I’m actually super nervous. Don’t make fun of me.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t you?” JJ asks, nudging their noses against each other.

“No, I wouldn’t. Why do you think—“

“Otabek, will you go out with me?”

His breathing stops for a second. JJ pulls back to look at him, all his nervousness plastered plain on his face this time. But it’s not necessary. Because Otabek thinks about how he will be able to have this when he asks for it, and even when he doesn’t, these feelings kindling so warm in his chest, the soft spread of JJ's lips against his own, the hands that touch him with an almost excruciating gentleness. Like Otabek isn't the hard young man he knows he is, but something adored. And now, JJ will look at him like this. Not like he always has before, putting on an exaggerated show of confidence and, sometimes, pitiful pining, but like this, open and honest, tender and doting. The feeling is like basking in the sun. Warm, warm, warm.

“If I go out with you,” Otabek begins, and pauses, and watches JJ’s whole face go alight. “You can’t do anything at work.”

“I won’t. I promise I won’t,” JJ answers eagerly, clutching Otabek’s hands tight in his own.

“I mean it. Don’t try to kiss me in front of customers or anything.”

“I’m a tiny bit insulted you think I’d actually do that, you know.”

“Just don’t get fired.”

“‘Cause you’d miss me, right?”

Otabek stares blankly at him until JJ relents. “Okay, I won’t get fired. I won’t make out with you at work. Not that you’d let me even if I wanted to.”

“That’s my only condition.”

“Oh. I expected more,” JJ says, but he sounds relieved.

“Do you want more?”  
  
“That would make it interesting, but I think I’m good.” JJ, again, reaches up to squish Otabek’s face in his hands. He thumbs over his dark circles. “Can I have a condition too, actually? I want you to get more sleep from now on.”

When Otabek hesitates, he shouts, “Really?!”

“It’s not easy to change a person’s sleep schedule."

"Well, let's start today." And of course that means something else too, because JJ knocks their foreheads together and adds, gently, "Please?"

And because he wants to, Otabek says yes. And he lets himself be led back to JJ's car, and driven home. And on the ride there Otabek tracks the navy-colored clouds in the sky and lowers the window and breathes in a breeze that settles down into his ribcage. How different the night seemed just hours earlier. When he looked out and saw a wild refuge for himself. But now he wants to blanket himself in it, and cling to someone, and never let go. And be there, entangled in them both. Giving way to impulses. Being overwhelmed. It makes him feel like when he wakes up tomorrow it will have all been an elaborate lucid dream. But to grind the feeling and the taste into his mind he yanks JJ close once they've parked in front of his apartment and he kisses him, not with any finesse, because he doesn't know how, but with a rough desperation he's quickly getting used to experiencing. It burns the pit of his stomach so hot it makes him gasp. JJ mouths at his jaw for just a moment before he bodily tears himself away and nearly shoves Otabek out of his car.

"I really can't, I really can't Otabek, I'm gonna jump you in like two seconds and I can't, you need to sleep," he blurts. "I like you, I really like you, okay? Don't be mad, please, I like you, I like you, I like you." He drags his eyes away from Otabek and back to his steering wheel. "I'll text you tomorrow, okay?"

Still a little dizzy, Otabek says, "yeah," and closes the passenger door behind him. Then, belatedly, "I like you too."

In spite of all the fight he put up, he falls asleep almost immediately once he gets into his room. He dreams of tightropes.

-

The first thing Otabek does in the morning is check his phone. Through bleary eyes, he reads the text waiting for him, and struggles against the smile that spreads on his face.

_I like you more._

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on tumblr if u wanna! @victuuri (ﾉ≧∀≦)ﾉ


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